Apparently last night I sat at the bar with an upside down sharpie lightning bolt on my forehead, yelling "It's Harry Potter's birthday! Let me be on the qudditch team!" And I kept calling the bartender Dobby. There are videos.
I should never bitch about not getting laid. He's begging me to come over and I'm saying no because I'm watching a Golden Girls marathon.
Most eventful shower ever. Jacked off, peed and puked in there.
Im blasting "Fat Bottom Girls" as loud as humanely possible in attempts that old ladies doing water aerobics will take the hint and get the fuck out of the pool.
Even the paramedic said "what a way to kill a party"
I love you. Thanks for all the blowjobs.
I have officially had sex in every room on my floor. Don't say I'm not an amazing RA.
PS August 29 of last year was when you ran over my foot. Facebook just reminded me.
You disappeared for an hour and showed back up with handfuls of bratwursts and yelled at my girlfriend that if she didn't eat them, that the nazis win
Best part? I know that the likelyhood of this turning into an intimate relationship is like 4.25%
No one ever gets any after sleeping with her. She is like the broken mirror of hookups, enjoy 7 years of blue ball. Don't say I didn't warn you
YOU'RE CHANGING THE SUBJECT. I CAN BLOW SOMETHING UP OR I CAN TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM, BUT ONE OF THE TWO IS BOUND TO HAPPEN
For new year's, we should just keep our resolution simple and keep accomplishing burpees in heels.... while drunk.
I want a musical about memes.
Grandma is high again and locked herself in the house
Randomize
